


Ghost

by guardianstar



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Bullying, F/M, Mutant Powers, Sad Backstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:37:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianstar/pseuds/guardianstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theodora Stevenson is my full name, but I prefer Theo. I've never been able to stay in one place for long thanks to my dad's awful job as a journalist, we're constantly being moved all over the country with no real pattern in sight. Sometimes it feels like we're running away from something instead of chasing what my dad always calls "our biggest story yet". It's stupid. Anyway, I'm both excited and nervous about our next big move...America! New York to be specific. A rather dramatic change considering I've mostly been living in England all my life... I doubt school will be any different though. Sure, there's the small cultural difference, but I doubt anyone will notice anything dramatic except for my British accent and how I spell various words. No, I'm talking about the bullies. There always there and I'm always their favourite target. Maybe it's because I'm ALWAYS 'the new kid' but sometimes it's like someone tattooed a large Bull's Eye on my back along with a sign saying "KICK ME". Ugh, but who knows? Maybe this one won't be so bad...I have a weird feeling this will be the beginning of the best and worst adventure of my life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My First Day At School...

_Okay, this is it. Don’t be nervous, nervous will get you killed. We don’t want this to turn out like last time. Play it cool. Be cool. Be cool. Be cool. Be cool…_

I took arithmetic deep breaths as I walked down the pavement leading to Midtown High School. I was thankful to be transferring at the beginning of the school year, not in the middle of it, but the idea of a brand new school in a brand new area was still horrifying.

I glanced up at the building as it came into sight. It wasn't as big as some of the other schools I’d been to, but it was still pretty huge. It looked like it had four floors, which was, in my records, big. I didn't miss the large American flag hanging above the main entrance and I had to stifle a laugh. _So it’s true: Americans really do put flags on everything, even their schools._

I’d heard America was patriotic, but I guess now was my time to see the truth. This was my first time in the USA, my dad and I transferred here for his job as a journalist. We’d moved to New York, which was amazing on its own. I’d lived my whole life in a small town in England and suddenly I'm in the middle of New York, the Big Apple I think some call it? _Yeah, I'm going to be killed here. I'm going to offend so many people…_ But could they really blame me for being ignorant of another culture? …Probably.

I tightened the shoulder straps of my bag, a simple black thing, nothing stylish, and leapt up the front steps leading to the school two at a time. I tried not to feel self conscious about the habit and walked as quickly as I could towards the entrance. _Okay, I just need to find the reception desk, receive my timetable and get to my first class…_ I pushed through the main doors, half expecting to at least be able to see my destination from there, and immediately found myself in the middle of a swarm of teenagers moving in all directions. _Yup, this is where I die. My tombstone will say, “Here lays an idiot who managed to get trampled to death on her first day of school. Well done, at least you tried.”_

“Um…excuse me?”

I whipped around, startled, to find tall guy giving me a disapproving look. “Huh?” I blurted out like an idiot. First impressions were definitely not my specialty.

“You’re in the way,” he growled, his expression gradually growing irritated. He seemed to be in a hurry.  
I glanced around and realized I was standing in the centre of the hallway, blocking a lot of people’s paths. I winced and slid to the edge of the corridor. “Sorry,” I murmured to the guy who simply grunted and continued on his way. I sighed and leaned against the wall, staring helplessly at the waves of teenagers. _This is going to be fun…_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After awkwardly asking for directions about seven times I was finally able to find the reception desk. I fidgeted nervously as I approached the desk, feeling ill after already talking to more people than I was comfortable with, but tried to keep still as I cleared my throat to speak to whoever was sitting behind the table in front of me. “Um…hello?”

A head popped up from behind the desk and I held back a grimace once I realized it wasn't a friendly face. The woman was old and brittle-looking, with a nasty expression in her eyes. She reminded me of those nasty old witches from The Witches, one of Roald Dahl’s books and probably my favourite of his works. I enjoyed making the mental reference, but I didn't appreciate the idea of this woman turning me into a mouse. “What do you want?” She rasped, annoyance written all over her face. “Do you know what time it is?! You’re already late for class!”

I shifted my weight nervously, not liking the way she was already halfway to yelling and I’d barely uttered anything but a greeting. “I-I'm sorry, it’s just that…I'm the new transfer student...the one from England?” I turned the last part of my sentence into a question, afraid there may have been a mistake.

The old woman’s eyebrows furrowed in suspicion and confusion before her head disappeared behind the desk and the sound of her fingers tapping away at a keyboard followed almost instantly. I resumed twitching and fidgeting, all my nervous habits surfacing at once as my mind developed numerous uncomfortable and inconvenient scenarios that could become my reality at any moment. I didn't realize I’d been holding my breath until the woman’s face suddenly reappeared and shocked me into a gasp. “Yes,” she croaked, sounding almost intrigued. “Theodora Stevenson?”

“That’s me,” I sighed, relieved. “Do you have my timetable?”

Without a word, the woman slid a piece of paper over the desk along with what appeared to be a student guidebook. “There’s a map of the school in that leaflet as well as various types of information on Midtown High,” she said robotically, relaying the same words she’d probably repeated to hundreds of other uninterested teenagers. “It’s currently…9:23am, so your first lesson is…” she looked at me expectantly.

I glanced down at the timetable on my paper. It was Wednesday today so I had… “English, first period.”

“Great, now get out of my office and go to class,” the woman snapped and disappeared once again.

I frowned at the empty space she’d left behind and trudged out of her office, opening the student guidebook to find the map that would hopefully lead me to my English class in…room E4. I searched for it on the map and found it with ease. “Second floor, west wing, fourth classroom on the right…” I was walking before I’d finished the sentence and moved swiftly through the now empty halls that creeped me out a little, though I preferred them empty compared to when they were full of teens. Unlike my previous attempts to find the reception office, I was able to find my English class with minimal effort. Unfortunately I was then faced with a larger hurdle than the first: entering the classroom late.

I stood a few meters from the door so that no one inside would be able to see me through the window. _Okay, phase two, all I need to do is knock on the door and walk in. The teacher surely knows about me, I'm the new transfer student. Do the students know about me? Oh God, as soon as I walk in I'll be the centre of attention! Everyone'll be staring at me…ugh why couldn't I arrive early? I should've been prepared for this!_ I sighed and leaned against the wall repositioning myself to gaze helplessly at the ceiling. _Curse my social awkwardness. Maybe I should cut this class and make my first appearance in second period? No one would care…wait, I've already signed in at the reception office! Shit, there’s no escape! I could always say I got lost though…no, it’s too risky. I don’t need to look like an idiot on top of everything else-_

“What are you doing?”

I yelped with surprise and held my hands up to defend myself but quickly realized that was a stupid and unnecessary action. A tall, skinny, brown haired boy was standing before me wearing an expression of curiosity and amusement. “Uh...admiring the ceiling,” I mumbled, nodding at the cracked tiles above us. _Probably not my best excuse…_

The boy barked a quiet laugh and I tried not to pout, not pleased with being laughed at. “Wow…um…okay that seems interesting. It sure is a great ceiling, not old and cracked at all.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I agreed with a weak smile, “my compliments to the architect.”

“Same here. Uh…hey, are you the new transfer student? I recognize the British accent…”

I nodded. “I was just deciding whether or not to skip first period.”

He pulled a face, “Have a grudge against the English language? I thought you’d love it...y'know...considering you're English...”

I rolled my eyes. “No, English is probably my best subject, I'm just terrible at…socializing.” I gestured to the closed door which was all that separated me from a hoard of teenagers and a probably-not-so-kind teacher.

“Ah,” the boy nodded in agreement. “Well I guess I can help you there.” Without another word he stepped past me and knocked on the door before stepping inside and dragging me in with him. “Sorry I'm late, Miss Mills, I was just escorting our new transfer student to class. She was a little lost.”

I stared at him in disbelief. _Seriously?! Not helpful!_ I glued my eyes to the floor, doing my best to avoid eye contact with anyone as I tried to sort out my increasing heart rate. “Oh? You’re…Theodora Stevenson, yes?” I nodded, glancing up to take a quick look at my new English teacher. She was tall and tanned with short brown hair and bright green eyes that were eyeing me almost suspiciously, though she seemed to be trying hard to keep up a welcoming smile. “Welcome, Miss Stevenson. I am Miss Mills and I'll be teaching you English this year. This is your first time in America, is it not?”

I nodded silently.

“Well I hope you like it, though I'm sure it’s a huge change from England.”

“Definitely.”

“Well go take your seat next to Mr. Parker. I assume you've taken it upon yourself to look after our new student, seeing as you were so kind as to sacrifice your time in my class to help her?” I detected the passive aggression in her voice as she spoke to the boy who’d dragged me into class and I suppressed a laugh.

The boy, Parker, nodded and walked through the rows of staring teenagers to a pair of empty seats at the back of the room. I followed him quietly and took the seat next to him, by the window. I barely noticed as Miss Mills resumed teaching the class and everyone’s whispers quieted, though I didn't miss the glances people kept throwing me. I tried to pay attention to her words but halfway through the lesson I gave up and began doodling in the margin of a page in my workbook. As I was just finishing a dragon, I felt Parker tap my arm and turned to give him a questioning look. He pointed at a piece of paper he’d slipped onto my desk and I leant forward to read what was on it.

_Is your name REALLY Theodora? Isn't that Greek or something?_

I rolled my eyes and glanced up at Miss Mills to check she was looking elsewhere before I scrawled a reply and shoved it back at him.

_Yes, it’s my real name. Just call me Theo._

Parker grinned and wrote a reply before giving it back to me effortlessly; as though he had no fear of the fact Miss Mills might catch us. Maybe HE wasn't bothered by the danger of being caught passing notes, but I wasn't keen on getting a detention on my first day.

_Hello, Theo, I'm Peter Parker_

I smiled ever so slightly before writing down another, final, reply and sending it back.

_That’s nice dear, now go away before we get caught passing notes!_

Peter made a heartbroken expression which I pretended to ignore as I resumed taking notes in my book, feeling glad to have already studied Of Mice and Men since it would mean this semester, if that’s what they were called, was going to be a breeze.

 

 

...I take it back. This semester will NOT be a breeze.

Second period was Chemistry and oh lord how I loathed Chemistry. The whole subject was confusing and complicated and…ugh I can’t go on. Peter wasn't sitting next to me this time but I could see him clearly from where I was sat. He didn't seem to be struggling at all and actually looked like he was enjoying himself. _He must be one of those science types._ I groaned inwardly and lay my head on my book filled with pitiful, confused notes. I understood physics since it was basically just a mixture of logic and applied maths, and I understood biology to an extent since that was also basically logical except for some things about chemicals and whatnot. My biggest struggle was chemistry. It was just a mass of information that didn't seem to link in any way or make any sense. Where was the logic?! Where?!

The bell rang to signal the end of class and I pushed my books into my bag half heartedly, not wanting to dwell on the subject any more than I had to. I glanced around to look for Peter but he must've left because the only other people in the room with me were a group of girls who stood giggling by the door. I shouldered my bag and attempted to edge past them but they were taking up too much of the doorway. “Uh…excuse me, could you guys move a bit?”  
The girls immediately stopped talking and turned unanimously to look at me with judging eyes. “Are you talking to us?” One girl, the ringleader, asked, looking disgusted as though a bug had crawled into her line of sight. She had long dark hair that almost reached down to her waist. She had a pretty face, but it was probably just the make-up. Her eyes were a cold shade of blue and I knew immediately that she didn't like me one bit.

“Um, yeah?”

The girl looked like she was about to dish out some sort of crude comment but was interrupted by a shorter girl, a brunette with wide green eyes, who stood next to her and had been eyeing me up since I appeared. “Hey, aren't you that new transfer student, the one from England?”

I paused before nodding uncertainly. “Yeah…”

“Oh my gosh, does that mean you’re a genius?” Another girl gasped.

What is this, a freak show? “No, Ism quite average.”

“So you’re another dumb blonde, huh?” The ringleader snickered, followed by a flurry of crude laughs from the other girls. I unconsciously reached for a strand of my messy blonde hair. _Oh joy it’s the blonde jokes. How creative and original, these guys should be comedians._ “You don’t want to cross us, blondie, but feel free to join us at any time; we don’t mind escorting the new girl from England.”

I suppressed the urge to grimace and put on a polite expression, laced with passive aggression. “Thanks, but I’d probably get a similar experience if I joined a pack of stray dogs, so I'll have to decline. As much as I like dogs, they always smell weird.” Not wanting to witness the consequences of my unnecessary words, I brushed past the group of girls, trying hard not to look at their flabbergasted expressions. Seconds after I escaped the room, I heard a series of angry hisses and whispers that I had no desire to decipher. _I just got myself into a seriously unnecessary mess. Lord, let there be no bad consequences…_

I spent a lot of break walking around aimlessly and trying to get used to my surroundings. Midtown High wasn't exactly a high quality place, it was as good as any public school I’d been too before and even included the very occasional vulgar graffiti. Seriously, what was it with teen guys drawing dicks on everything? What were they trying to achieve? Maybe I should add ‘pondering the meaning of dick graffiti’ to my list of things I was doing in break…

My major concern was that I hadn't made any friends yet. I hadn't even talked to anyone except for the old lady at the reception desk, Miss Mills, Peter Parker and the hoard of girls who looked like something out of a stereotypical cick flick about school life. Still, I’d done worse. At one of the schools I went to back in England I'd managed to go about three weeks without saying a word to anyone. The British aren't exactly social creatures. My longest lasting companion had always been my books. It sounds sad, but I actually prefer the company of books to people. The only way a book can hurt me is by killing off my favourite characters, but even then it’s more the author’s fault than the book itself. So obviously my favourite location on the school site would be the library, which was exactly where I was. As soon as I’d found it my heart skipped a beat and I knew this would be where I would spend a vast majority of my time. People and socializing had never been my strong point. I was shy and socially awkward around strangers, or anyone really, so could you blame me for becoming something similar to an introverted lone wolf? Blame genetics, it was probably an ancestor’s fault.

I dragged my finger gently across the spines of various books as I wandered the shelves, searching for a new title that piqued my interest or an old title of a book I had yet to finish. I did it absent mindedly though, not actually intent on finding a book. It was only break and it would only be a matter of time before the bell went off to signal that third period was about to begin. Third period today was Maths, one of my less painful subjects. Hopefully my teacher won’t be too hard to handle.

As my feet took me to the science section, my mind wandered to Peter. He was the only person I’d had anything close to a conversation with so far and was also the only person whose full name I knew. _Maybe he’s my chance for a friend? I'm going to need at least one of those; I'm in a brand new country for crying out loud! I can’t trust dad to show me around, he'll be working non-stop for who knows how long…Maybe I'll make a friend in this library. I've always been best at handling my own kind._ The only kind of people I was able to talk to were those who were even more socially awkward than I. Those and the friendly outgoing types that did all the talking for you…well, sometimes, I didn't always like them. Those types could often come off as annoying and, as cruel as it sounded, I wasn't eager to be spending all my time with a person I couldn't stand to be around-

The bell went off and I jumped, bumping into a person standing behind me who turned to glare at me. “Sorry,” I winced, embarrassed, and hurried off to my Maths class.

The rest of the day went in a similar manner to the beginning of my day. Maths went smoothly and I understood everything and got a good amount of work done, though again I didn't talk to anyone. Fourth period was Biology. I didn't struggle as much as I did with chemistry but I managed to get something similar to work done. Once again, I didn't make any friends. I spent lunch sitting in the corner of the library reading my favourite book, Watership Down. I probably should've used this time to try to find a nerd to befriend but I got so absorbed in Hazel’s adventures that I almost missed the bell ring for fifth period. French, ugh, why did I choose to do a language again? Something about it being good for getting into university? Anyway, that lesson was just like the others. I got work done, but made no friends.

My last lesson was Art, one of my best subjects. My only real talent was my artistic skill, or at least it seems like that since it’s the only thing other people compliment me for. I stepped into the classroom and immediately fell in love with it. The ceiling was higher than in the other rooms and had four spinning fans that kept the air moving in the room. There were a number of tables scattered around the room, each made of wood, and I settled myself on a table at the back where no one else was sitting. This was the one lesson where I didn't want to be disturbed.

Our art teacher appeared moments later and explained that our topic this semester was natural form and that we were to prepare and develop our own independent works for a final piece that would go towards our final grade for the year. We were basically free to do anything we wanted and use whatever resources we wished to use, as long as we didn't go crazy.

 _Yup, I'm going to love this class. It’s everything I'll ever need._ Inspired by the book I’d been reading barely an hour ago, I decided that my main theme would be on rabbits and immediately began to sketch various types of rabbits in my sketchbook. Time flew by faster than I’d hoped and as the end of the lesson approached I realized I’d drawn my mental image of half the characters in Watership Down. I particularly liked the way Bigwig looked and how I’d managed to make him look threatening despite being an adorable bunny.

“Whoa, did you draw all that?” A girl’s voice whispered in awe. I glanced over my shoulder and realized it was one of the mean girl’s from earlier.

“No, the magical pixies drew it,” I answered sarcastically, but she either didn't realize I was being rude or chose to ignore it.

“It’s really good! You should become an artist,” she grinned enthusiastically.

I laughed awkwardly. “No…I’d actually prefer to be an author.”

“An author? Do you write a lot?”

“Sort of, but most of my stories are developing in my head.”

“Like what?”

I shook my head, not wanting to explain every one of my ideas to this girl. “Never mind, anyway I should go…”

“You should be careful with your drawings,” the girl said suddenly, looking grave. “Alex is proud of her art but if she sees anyone’s work that looks better than hers…let’s just say she’s not the most peaceful girl in the school.”

I frowned, “Thanks, I guess…” I pushed my sketchbook into my bag and slung it over my shoulder as I hurried out of the classroom, not wanting to hang around any longer than I had too. _Was that a threat or a warning? Or both? Alex must be the ringleader girl from that mean girls group…I guess I should be careful around her._ I exited school with ease and retraced my steps from my journey to school in order to get back to the cramped apartment my dad and I were staying in. He said it was only temporary, but I knew that was just code for ‘I don’t know what’s going on anymore, just go with it’. To be honest, I didn't actually hate our new home. It was small, sure, but the people in our building were nice enough and hadn't been much of a bother. The guy a few floors below us had fired a gun one night that woke both my dad and I, but other than that it had been a smooth arrival.

“Good afternoon, Mr. D’Angelo,” I nodded to the landlord, who spent most of his time sitting behind the desk just inside the doors of the building, keeping an eye on anyone who entered.

“Hello, Miss Stevenson,” he beamed warmly. “How was Midtown High?”

“Eh,” I shrugged, “S’alright.”

He laughed and returned to the crossword he’d been doing as I stepped into the elevator and pressed the number for my floor. The doors closed with a ding and I leaned against the wall as the lift ascended the building, enjoying the terrible elevator music that played dimly around my head. After half a minute or less, the doors dinged open and I stepped into the hallway, counting the doors until I found ours, apartment 142. It was my first time living in an apartment and it felt a lot like living in a hotel except you didn't have to pay for everything as often. “I'm home,” I called out as I unlocked and opened the door, shutting it behind me and navigating my way through the maze of unpacked boxes that filled our hallway. “I didn't die!”

“Theo?” I heard dad call from somewhere. “How was school?”

“Great,” I snorted sarcastically. “I was super popular and made hundreds of friends with my super cool foreign accent. I also have five boyfriends and seven girlfriends now.”

“That’s my girl,” he laughed and I could almost hear the grin on his face, though I couldn't see him. “Want to take a break from your active social life to help your old man unpack some more of these boxes?”

“Oh boy, my favourite activity,” I laughed and opened the first box to my left. It was full of a bunch of my paintings from home. “Ah, it’s the decorations box. Want to get the nails or shall we leave the paintings for later?”

“We should probably do it after getting the rest of the stuff straight. Then we can find the best spots for them.”

“Good idea,” I agreed and carried the box into the room I had claimed as my bedroom. It was the smaller bedroom as I’d let my dad take the bigger one for his work. Both were full of boxes of either our own things or stuff we’d decided to sort out later…so a lot of boxes. It would be weeks before we sorted everything out and to be honest I was hoping we’d get the news we were moving to a bigger place to avoid the extra fuss but I knew that probably wasn't going to happen. _Oh well, at least we have a roof over our heads and neither of us is dead._ I placed the box carefully on top of a pile of other boxes in the corner and returned to the main living room to help dad sort through as many boxes as we could manage.

After almost four hours dad ordered pizza and we decided to take a break to watch a few episodes of The X-Files on our newly unpacked TV. “This entire show is basically just varying levels of sexual tension between Scully and Moulder,” I commented halfway through another episode about Scully being kidnapped.

“That’s pretty much it,” my dad agreed, chewing on a slice of pizza. “It’s a shame they never get together.”

“Maybe they do,” I theorized, giving my dad a grin. “Maybe they’re secretly getting all sorts of off screen action and the tension is just because of work. They were married for a while in real life so why not in the fictional world too?”

“I think you’re on to something, Theo,” he agreed, returning my grin. “You should write it in one of those…what do you call them?”

“It’s called fan fiction and who says I haven’t written one for X-Files already?” I winked suggestively, making him gag.

“What creature have I raised?”

“The most fabulous creature to ever grace the Earth with her presence.”

“You flatter yourself. You’re more of a troll than a unicorn.”

“I am neither troll nor unicorn, I am a dragon.”

“Is your mother Daenerys Targaryen?” My father gaped, staring at me with fake awe.

I snorted, “Who knows? You and mum never told me who my biological parents were. Being adopted is such a mysterious business.”

“To be honest, even we never found out who your biological parents were. Apparently even the adoption centre didn't know.” He grinned mischievously, “You’re a mystery girl. The new wonder of New York.”

I laughed but it disappeared quickly and we settled into a sad silence, filled only by the muffled sound of the TV which dad turned off. “I wonder what mum would've thought of New York,” I asked no one in particular.

“She would never have agreed to come in the first place,” dad chuckled. “She loved England too much to leave it. Plus she hated the noise of big cities, so New York would've been a nightmare.”

“Yeah, you’re right. She was always a small town girl,” I agreed, glancing out the window to watch a bird that had settled on the windowsill.

“And I was the city boy who whisked her off her feet and eventually turned out to be unable to produce children. I think your mother was glad about that part though. She always told me she wanted a child but didn't want to give birth.”

“Sounds like her,” I smiled. “Adoption is such a great method. You literally get to choose what child you want instead of being forced into something random.”

“That was a beautiful summary.”

“Thank you.”

“Anyway, it’s late. Go do your homework and then get to bed. You still have two more days to make friends before the weekend!”

I groaned and slid off the makeshift sofa of boxes. “But effort….”

“GO.”

I moaned but managed to slither to my room eventually. “Dad?”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“You have cheese all over your face and you look like an idiot.”

“I love you too, sweetie.”


	2. The Locker Incident

I concentrated on not bobbing my head to the music coming from my headphones. The ending song for Portal 2 had just come on and it was taking all my power to not start singing with it right there in the middle of the street. Even with the temperature at a zillion degrees Celsius today, I could still jam.

I’d heard on the radio yesterday that it would be hot today and although I knew the climate in America was different from England’s climate I was NOT prepared for this kind of heat! I could only hope I didn’t start sweating through my clothes. I’d shaved my legs in preparation for the red shorts I was currently wearing which paired nicely with my white vest top and open short-sleeved plaid shirt. I’d also tied my blonde hair back in a ponytail that I could only hope didn’t look a total mess. I even wore sandals today, the ones I usually only wore to the beach. I seriously felt like I was on holiday, not to mention I hadn’t quite adapted to the idea of not wearing a school uniform. It was my first time wearing casual clothes to school when it wasn’t even a non-school-uniform day. Sure I’d already been doing it for two days but I still couldn’t get used to it. _I guess I should be thankful. I’d die if I had to wear a uniform in this kind of heat! I’m literally melting._ I wasn’t even exaggerating with my ‘literally’, I could see my skin shining with beads of sweat already! I wouldn’t be surprised if I dripped out of existence and slid down a nearby drain.

I lifted my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. 8:35, there was still a little time before class started. I returned my phone to its place and hopped up the stairs leading to Midtown High for the third time that week. There was one thing to be excited for: my locker! I’d never had a locker at any of my old school, so this was another new experience for me. The lady from the reception desk, whose name turned out to be Mrs. Burke, had given me my locker number and code yesterday at the end of school, so now was my time to finally use it practically.

I breezed past the other students with ease, feeling calmer and slightly less awkward than I had yesterday. The locker was easy to find and I observed it for a moment before unlocking it. The lockers were tall and went up higher than the top of my head. I’d probably be able to fit inside if I tried, though it wouldn’t be comfortable and there’d be pretty much no excess space. I shuddered at the thought of being shut inside. Ever since I was seven I’d had an intense fear of being trapped, especially in small spaces. I wasn’t exactly claustrophobic, I wasn’t afraid to go into small spaces as long as I knew it was safe and that there was a way out, I just didn’t want to be trapped anywhere. I like knowing where the exits are.

I shifted my bag so that I held it in front of me and awkwardly transferred my workbooks that I wouldn’t need to day into the locker. I’d bring everything I planned to store in here on Monday; I planned on buying a whole box of spare pens since they ran out quickly with me. They didn’t run out because I did a lot of work, though I made an effort to copy down all the information I could, they ran out mostly because of all the doodling I did in the margin of my books. It was the only reoccurring complaint my teacher’s had about my work, well that and staring out the window when I should be paying attention. _I haven’t made the best start here, have I?_

“Ooh! Is that your new locker?”

I recognized the voice immediately and rolled my eyes before shutting my locker door and removing my headphones. “No, I was breaking into someone else’s,” I said monotonously.

Petra laughed, “Oh Theo, I can never tell whether you’re being serious or not when you talk like that!”

“That’s usually why I talk like this.”

“What do we have first period?” She asked, changing the subject with ease.

“Geography,” I groaned. “I hate it but it was always going to be a better choice than History. Never in a million years would I choose to study American History. I’ve grown up with British History and I plan to keep it that way. Thank goodness we learn about the same books in English…”

“What book are we reading in English? I rarely pay attention in that class.”

“Of Mice and Men, idiot, now come on or we’ll be late for class.”

I dragged her to our Geography class where other students were already drifting inside. Petra was that girl who kept talking to me from the mean girls group, though I hadn’t seen her hanging around with them since Day 1. Maybe they weren’t that close? Either way, she seemed desperate to be my friend and was bearable enough. All I needed to do was drown out the unwanted chatter that seemed to pour constantly from her mouth. I only really heard 20% of it.

I positioned myself on a seat at the back of the room, once again next to the window. It was my favourite spot in classrooms and I always made an effort to sit in this spot, it made me feel like the protagonist in an anime. _One day I will be the protagonist in a story. One day._

I glanced at the doorway and watched as Peter walked in alone. I hadn’t spoken to Peter since Wednesday and I was starting to doubt we’d ever speak again. I wasn’t too bothered; I was used to being alone and didn’t need many people to feel content. And as long as I had dad I’d be more than okay.

I lowered my head as the bell rang and our teacher walked in and introduced himself as Mr. Roberts. Partway through the lesson Petra started elbowing me. At first I ignored her but her nudges became more persistent and eventually I snapped.

“What?!” I hissed, whipping round to glare at her fiercely.

Unfazed, she got down to business. “What’s up with you and Parker?”

I blinked, surprised. “Peter?”

“Yeah, you keep glancing at him.”

“What? No I don’t!”

“Yeah you do, I’ve been watching you all lesson and you keep sneaking looks at him. What’s up, do you like him or something?”

I felt my face heat up and I averted my gaze uncomfortably. “I don’t like him and I’m not ‘sneaking looks’. We only talked once and that was ages ago.”

“Hm…okay then. I’d be surprised if you did like him. He’s basically a social outcast.”

“Like me then?” I snorted.

“Yes! Exactly like you! Except he’s waaay more of a nerd than you are. Way smarter too.”

“Hey, I have strengths as well as weaknesses. My mind is just more…creative.”

“That’s what idiots say.”

“I have higher grades than you, I bet.”

Petra smirked and returned to her work, “We’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes and began drawing black stars in my margin, something I did when I was stressed. _What did she mean by a social outcast? I get that he’s smart and so on, but is he awkward and shy too? He didn’t seem too bad when I talked to him…_

The bell rang and I left with Petra in silence, ready to ignore her. “Hey, what do you think of Spider Man?”

I furrowed my eyebrows with confusion. “Who’s Spider Man?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that question? Spider Man, the superhero who protects us from evil, swings around on weird webs and wears spandex, that guy!”

“You’re words are getting weirder and weirder.”

She sighed with exhaustion. “Right, you were in England until a few weeks ago so you probably haven’t heard of him yet. He’s sort of a celebrity in New York. Hold on a sec, I’ll find a picture of him on my phone…” She immediately began tapping away at her phone screen. _I probably shouldn’t be surprised that there are superheroes here. There were a few in Britain that I heard about too, though I’ve never seen one. I think I’ve heard of…Spitfire…Union Jack…_

“Here he is!” Petra suddenly exclaimed, interrupting my thoughts as she shoved her phone in my face. I studied the screen which showed an image of a man swinging on something that looked like white rope. He was wearing a skin-tight body suit which was red and blue with a web pattern on it as well as a black spider on his chest. He wore a mask so I couldn’t see his face, the only thing notable were two huge white eye shapes that he undoubtedly used to see.

“So this is the famous Spider Man?” I mumbled, not entirely interested.

“Yup! Isn’t he cool?”

“I have to question his fashion sense; all that spandex isn’t good for appearances.”

She rolled her eyes. “His costume is spandex so he can move faster, duh! Now let’s get to art class.”

She gripped my arm and half dragged me to my next lesson. I noticed Peter making his way to the Photography block as we walked. _That explains the camera I’ve seen him carrying…_

Art was peaceful and I decided to stay through break to work on a painting of a rabbit I’d started, not wanting to break the roll I was on. Petra agreed to stay too, even though I didn’t ask. I appreciated her company but I was concerned about Alex. A history  
with bullies had taught me that even the slightest provocation can bring on a world of trouble. If I started giving off the appearance of stealing her friends…who knows what’ll happen.

“Once again, Theo, I’ve been made jealous,” Petra whined. She was sitting opposite me on my table at the back of the classroom. She’d chosen foxes as her topic for natural form, but it didn’t appear to be going well. “If I could paint half as well as you, I’d be a famous artist by now.”

I chuckled, adding colour to the rabbit’s fur. “It’s not even that good…”

“Don’t you dare say that! It’s amazing and you know it!”

“Yeah, that’s true. I’m fabulous.”

“How modest of you…”

“Don’t flatter me unless you want me to be arrogant and snobbish.”

“It’s a good thing no one would ever flatter you for anything, blondie,” a voice spoke from the doorway. Both Petra and I startled and jumped up simultaneously.

“Alex!” Petra gasped. “What are you doing here? You aren’t in our art class, plus it’s break…”

“I came here looking for you, Pet,” Alex smiled sweetly, walking towards us with confident strides. “Since when do you ditch your friends to do…art?”

“Since she started hanging around with me,” I said calmly, putting on my own sweet smile. “And I find art to be a good pastime, so can you really blame her for wanting to hang around?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “And what makes you think you have the right to talk to me?”

“I like to think the only thing keeping me from talking to someone is my personal preference to not speak to them.”

“Theo, you probably shouldn’t talk like that…” Petra whispered uncertainly.

“Listen to your _friend_ , Stevenson.” Alex’s eyes drifted down to my work when she reached our table and I didn’t miss the way her whole body tensed with irritation. “Oh, you’re quite the little artist, aren’t you?”

“Apparently so,” I agreed before beginning to pack my stuff away. “Now, we should probably get going, the bell’s going to ring any second now…” As if in response to my words, the bell rang and I gestured at nothing to say ‘my point is proven’. “There we go. Petra, are you in my Computing class?”

Petra shook her head, still watching the empty space Alex had left once she walked out of the classroom. “It’s a double lesson for you, isn’t it?”

I nodded, frowning at nothing. “Looks like I’ll be alone again until lunch.”

“No, I think Parker is in your computing class,” she turned to grin at me as we finally left the room. “You should try talking to him.”

I scoffed. “Really, with my level of social awkwardness? No thanks, I’d probably die. Now please stop obsessing over my nonexistent relationship with Peter Parker. At best we’re acquaintances, not star-crossed lovers.”

“You’ll probably find him easy enough to talk to. You said you find it easier to talk to similarly awkward and shy people, right? Well he’s basically the king of awkwardness around these parts, Flash Thompson has definitely noticed.”

I frowned. “Who’s Flash Thompson?”

“One of the popular kids, our school’s star quarterback and typical bully, whose favourite target just so happens to be Parker.”

“That’s awful…”

“It’s High School; those at the bottom of the social pyramid suffer.”

“Where am I on the social pyramid?”

“Well so far everyone sees you as the mysterious pretty girl from England who spends all her time in the library, so you’re kind of off the scales at the moment. Unfortunately you probably just made an enemy of Alex Dixon so I think you’ll end up near the bottom depending on who you make friends with.”

“I’m friends with you, does that help?”

Petra gasped happily and squeezed my arm. “Yay! That was the first time you called me your friend! I don’t think it’ll help you much now since I’ve also made an enemy of Alex Dixon by becoming your friend…we share the same sinking ship.”

“Oh goodie,” I sighed.

We soon separated to go to our different classes and I found my computing class with no issue. I immediately fell in love with the air conditioning and practically collapsed in front of a computer. _Thank you, Lord, for Air Con._

\---------------------------------------------------------------

I once again found myself in the library during lunch. I sat alone at a table that was starting to feel like my own, turning the gold ring that hung around my neck on a silver chain in my fingers, absent mindedly, as I held a book with my other hand. I had recently started reading a book called Lionboy and was becoming increasingly intrigued by this boy called Charlie who had a remarkable ability to talk to cats, lions and so on included. I was just getting to a good part when I felt someone hand grip my arm, startling me.

“Alex?” I whispered, weary of the old librarian who glanced up at my sudden movement but quickly returned his attention to the book he was reading.

“Theo, darling, would you care to come with me for a bit?” The dark haired girl hissed almost sweetly, tugging insistently at my arm. Not wanting to get into any sort of fight in the middle of a library, I followed her out of the room, leaving my bag next to the seat I’d been sitting in along with the book.

Once we were outside, I found myself in front of a small gathering. Alex wrapped her arm around mine and smiled at the people I assumed were here friends. “Everyone, this is little Theo. She’s a bit of a bookworm as you can probably see, but I’m sure we can get past that.”

One blonde guy, who had his arm wrapped around a girl with shoulder length blonde hair and blue eyes which were eyeing me as though deciding whether to look disgusted or welcoming, snorted with disinterest and turned to mutter something to his friend. 

The two laughed at whatever was said and turned back to me with wicked grins. Alex pouted angrily, “Don’t be mean, Flash! Liz, you should keep your boyfriend on a leash.”

The blonde girl smirked, “Yours was on the other end of the joke too, you know?”

Alex frowned and glared at Flash’s friend, a tall, skinny boy with dark hair. “Jason, you too.”

A third girl with black hair sniggered, “Can you blame them for it though? You’ve practically brought a stray cat to us.”

“Stray cats can be prettied and tamed,” Alex smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. I fidgeted nervously, not liking the position I was in.

“Oh look, kitty is getting nervous,” Flash grinned, removing his arm from Liz to take a step towards me. He was way taller than me, my head only reached his chest, and had a stocky build, maybe he was one of the jocks? “I should probably introduce myself. I’m Flash Thompson, the star quarterback of Midtown High.”

“And I’m his girlfriend, Liz Allan,” the blonde informed me, clearly marking her territory, not that I was interested in crossing any borders.

“This guy here,” Alex interrupted, walking up to Jason and placing her hand on his chest, “is my dear boy, Jason. He’s mine, so paws off.” She nodded at the dark haired girl. “That’s Sally, she’s currently single and ready to mingle.”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she agreed. “So what is this? You hanging with us now?”

“You won’t get an offer like this twice, kitten,” Jason grinned. “Alex has basically thrown you the golden ticket of popularity, a rare gift for your kind.”

I frowned and took a step back from the circle. “Thanks, but I think I can decide who I make friends with for myself.” I turned away from them and returned to my seat in the library, shouldering my bag and returning the book to its place on the shelves. When I walked out once again, the group had disappeared.

I let out a sigh of relief and headed to my next class.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

My last period was English and I enjoyed the peace it allowed me, but after the incident at lunch I didn’t feel like working on Of Mice and Men so I instead began writing my own story in a separate book, one I used for my own personal work. I’d decided when I was younger to become an author, not only because I wanted to be like my dad who had a passion for journalism, but because I’d always had a wide imagination that left me with too many ideas for stories. I never knew what to do with them. At first I’d draw them or put each idea into my schoolwork somehow, but eventually that became too difficult. The idea to write books only surfaced once I became interested in reading, an interest which I got from my mother and an interest that has never left me.

I remember that she always used to read. She never had a vivid imagination so she would say that writing would never be a good choice for her, but she always loved books and the things they did. A book can change a person. They say that a man who reads has lived a thousand lives but a man who has never read leads only one life. I believe this to be correct. My mother never journeyed outside of England, but she’d been everywhere. She’d even been to places that never existed or ever will exist in this universe. That alone made her remarkable.

“Theo, I don’t think that’s what we’re supposed to be working on…”

I glanced over my shoulder at Petra, who was sitting behind me and giving me a look of disappointment. “I’m practising for my future career, that’s good enough.”

“Oh really?” I heard the voice of Miss Mills snap from the front of the class. I winced and looked up, finally noticing that the whole class was staring at me, some people even smiling and giggling at my misfortune. “Perhaps you’d like to explain this to me in detention?” As if on cue, the bell rang and everyone began to leave. Petra gave me a sympathetic look as she mouthed _‘I did what I could’_ before leaving with everyone else. I sighed and slumped back in my chair, glancing up at Miss Mills who was still glaring at me. “Well then, Miss Stevenson, let’s see what’s so important that you had to use my session to complete it.”

I hesitated before lifting my book and handing it to her, watching her nervously as she began to read what I’d done so far. As she read her gaze softened and once she finished she sighed and handed my work back to me. The annoyance had dissipated from her face and was replaced by a calmer expression that I couldn’t quite decipher. I waited for her to speak, closing my book carefully.

“It’s good,” she said finally. “You’re work, I mean. I’m not happy that you didn’t even begin to do the tasks I’d given you, but I can’t deny that this is just as good.” She paused to study me a bit before asking, “Do you write a lot?”

“Not as often as I could, I just write when I feel like writing…which is more common than uncommon I guess…” I shrugged vaguely.

Miss Mills smiled and returned to her desk at the front of the class. “I like your work, Theo, but next time keep your own work to your own time. You may leave in 30 minutes but until then I advise you get as much work done as you can.”

“Yes, Miss.”

I moved my pen across my paper at max speed, hoping to make up for the lost time by working hard in the 30 minutes Miss had given me. I became so absorbed in my work that Miss Mills actually had to come over and inform me that I could leave, to which I sheepishly exited the classroom but felt satisfied with what I’d managed to do.

As I made my way towards my locker I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and stopped to remove it. I’d received a text from my dad.

_Hey, sweetie, sorry but I’m going to be stuck working for a while. I’ve left money in the apartment for you to order take out or go to a restaurant, do what you like but don’t spend recklessly. I’ll be home on Sunday, no parties while I’m out!_

I rolled my eyes and typed a swift reply before hitting send.

_Don’t worry, I only have one friend so far so nothing wild will go down. I’ll see you on Sunday then :)_

I put my phone back in my pocket and continued on my way to the locker, trying to decide what I should order for dinner when I got home. Once I reached my locker I put my bag down on the ground and put my phone inside, disliking the uncomfortable position it gave whenever I crouched down in these shorts. I transferred some of the books I’d stored in there from my locker into my bag, figuring I could use some extra reading material while dad was out. I didn’t even notice Flash until he roughly shoved my inside the locker.

I let out a yelp of surprise as my face slammed into the metal back of the locker, but an icy chill set in when I heard the click of the locker door slamming shut.

_No._

I heard the sound of Flash’s laughter which was soon joined by the laughs of several others. It was Alex’s group from before.

_No._

“Sorry, kitten, but this is really your fault for not accepting our invitation,” Alex’s voice came like venom through the locker door. I felt my heart rate increase steadily as a deep panic set in.

_NO._

“Let me out,” I said shakily, my voice coming out as a trembling crack that only made them laugh more. I heard the sound of footsteps and was about to call for help when I realized it was only them…leaving me.

“No, don’t leave me here!” I screamed at them, pounding on the back of my locker, unable to turn around to hit the door.

“By the way,” I heard Sally’s voice yell from halfway down the hall, “all the teacher’s leave early on Fridays! There won’t be anyone in this school to rescue you until Monday morning!”

“Have fun!” Jason’s voice added and I listened in terror as their laughter grew quieter and quieter.

_Okay, stay calm._

_I can’t stay calm, another voice argued, I’m literally TRAPPED inside my own locker!! This is NOT a time to be calm!!_

_Okay, chill, it’s not that bad!_

_It is that bad, we’re going to die!_

I felt my legs buckle beneath me. They had suddenly turned weak and were no longer able to hold my weight. I slid down a little, leaning against the locker door behind me as my breath quickened with my heart rate. Was I hyperventilating? Desperately, my inner voice tried to calm me.

_You aren’t going to die! You’ll be here for, what, two days and three nights? That’s not long enough to starve to death or die from dehydration._

_How comforting, my death isn’t imminent._

_You should be more positive._

_I CAN’T BE POSITIVE, I’M TRAPPED AND I’M ON THE VERGE OF A PANIC ATTACK RIGHT NOW!_

_Oh no, we don’t want that! If you have a panic attack here you’ll pass out!_

_I actually think I’d welcome that,_ I thought as I curled up at the bottom of my locker. I desperately tried to gain control of my breathing, which was swiftly becoming erratic, but there was nothing I could do. I just couldn’t get any air into my lungs; it was so hard to breath. This only added to my panic as I imagined suffocating in the small space of my locker. I gasped desperately for oxygen but it wasn’t enough. I barely noticed my vision turn back in the darkness that already surrounded me…

 

 

Peter's POV

I glanced around nervously. I’d barely noticed yesterday that I'd left my board inside my locker at school since I’d been busy trying to stop a mugger from stealing some woman’s purse. It had only taken a small amount of my powers to help and would’ve been less of an issue if the woman hadn’t then insisted on buying me dinner in return. I did try to refuse and in the end I managed to get her to agree to let mw off with just an ice cream. She probably thought SpiderMan was weird now but hey, Ben and Jerries ice cream is awesome!

But now I was faced with a problem. Breaking into school wasn’t really a thing I'd envisioned for myself after becoming a hero. Breaking OUT of school was usually the idea with students, but one would rarely thing to try to get in. Still, my board was my method of transport, how would I get around without it? God forbid I'd ever have to walk!

Which was what lead me to that position: being forced to use my spider abilities to sneak through an open window on the top floor, crawl along on the ceiling to avoid the few security cameras dotted around the school, all to find my beloved board. It was Saturday evening. I’d decided to arrive late at night when it was dark and no one would notice how there was a kid breaking into Midtown High.

I crawled along on the ceiling until I reached the corridor my locker was in. Conveniently, there were no security cameras there, so I was able to swing down and land on my feet with grace and without the worry of being seen. I was about to get started on my locker when I heard a faint sound coming from down the corridor, a sound I probably wouldn’t have heard without my advanced hearing. Someone was breathing. I know EVERYONE breathes and stuff, but this person's breathing was laboured and erratic, totally abnormal. If it had been regular breathing I'd probably have assumed it was some dumb teenager like myself or a teacher, but this someone sounded like they were on the edge of a panic attack. I glanced at my locker, weighing my decision a little before deciding to follow the faint sound of breathing.

The sound eventually lead me to a locker locker, a locker with a bag sitting innocently on the floor next to it. I glanced at it uncertainly before crouching in front of the locker. It was clear that someone was inside, probably the result of some bully’s prank. Had they been stuck inside since Friday? The breathing had stopped but Peter could hear the sound of a rapid heartbeat inside, so he knew that whoever was in there was at least still alive…and frightened. I let out a breath and tried to put on my most non-threatening voice. “Are you okay?” _A dumb question._

 

Theo's POV  
Inside the locker, I had managed to turn myself to face the door of the locker. After regaining consciousness after my panic attack I remained in a state of numbness, which was probably my brain refusing to react to the stress that had built up and obviously wasn’t going to go away. Instead I simply became unaware of my surroundings and tried to control my breathing which had gone a little out of control. My body was still acting stressed out, but my mind was calm, as if I were watching the whole scene from a third person point of view.

After an immeasurable amount of time I heard the sound of footsteps and was immediately filled with fear. Was it Alex and her group? Were they going to do something worse than simply locking me in a cage? I didn’t want to imagine what could happen and instead curled into a tighter ball and tried to calm the rising panic in my throat. _Maybe if I turn invisible or cease to exist they won’t notice me?_

However, the voice that came through my locker door wasn’t any from Alex’s group, though it did sound familiar. “Um…no not really,” I answered shakily, my voice sounding dry and cracked. Though I couldn’t remember it clearly it sounded like I’d been crying, maybe even yelling, for hours. I winced at the sound and tried to clear my throat, which was hard since I hadn’t had food or water for what may have been a day? Then a sickening thought struck me. Was it Monday already? Was this the first student to appear in school? “What day is it?”

Peter frowned, feeling pain for the person inside the locker since he, or she, (he couldn’t tell from the damaged voice) didn’t even know how long they’d been stuck. “It’s Saturday night,” he explained softly.

I sighed with relief and shifted my position. “Can you get me out?” I asked, my voice a little clearer than before.

Peter nodded before realizing the girl (he could now tell) wouldn’t be able to see it. “Yeah, just hold on a sec…” He reached out to the lock and tinkered with it a bit, careful not to break it since this was probably the girl’s locker and she wouldn’t want it to be broken. After a moment or two he heard a small click and grinned as he swung the door open. “There you go…” He froze when he saw who it was inside the locker, but wasn’t able to stare for long since she literally threw herself at him.

After hours and hours trapped in the dark, feeling numb and terrified, the first sight of the outside world had smashed my heart to pieces and an explosion of pain wrecked through my body, reducing me to a shaking mess. I didn’t even stop to fully register that it had been Peter who had saved me, instead deciding to cling to him desperately, as if he would disappear if I let go for even a second.

I felt him tense beneath my grip, clearly shocked, but soon softened and held me gently as I cried into his shirt. “It’s okay,” he said softly, though I didn’t miss the awkwardness in his tone, “you’re okay…”

I sniffed and rubbed my face furiously, embarrassed to have been seen at my weakest. “I-I’m sorry, I just…I just hate being trapped in dark places…”

“Claustrophobia?”

I frowned, “No, I just…I don’t appreciate being caged.”

He raised his arms in surrender, putting on a smile. “Thanks for correcting me. Listen, do you think you can walk? We should get you home; your parents should be worried sick…”

“Dad won’t get home from work until tomorrow,” I interrupted, pushing myself to my feet and groaning as my legs straightened for the first time in a day. I staggered a bit but Peter stretched his arm out to balance me.

“Well we should still get you home. Is that your bag?” He nodded at the rucksack that was still slumped next to my locker. I nodded, but didn’t go to pick it up since Peter made it there first and slung it over his shoulder without a word. “Come on.”

“Wait…didn’t you come here for something?” I knew there was no way a student would break into school on a Saturday night without good reason.

Peter immediately face palmed himself. “My board!” He disappeared down the hallway and I watched as a minute later he reappeared on a skateboard, wearing a bright smile. “I left it here last Friday and came back to get it. I can’t get anywhere without it.”

“Didn’t you get here without it?”

“Shh. Let’s go.”

I let him escort me out through a window on the bottom floor and through the city. I guided him to my apartment block I didn’t say anything as he followed me inside. I gave a small nod to Mr. D’Angelo, who was watching us with an expression of mixed feelings. I stepped inside the elevator with Peter and we remained silent as it pulled us up, playing music to fill the air with some form of sound.

Once the doors opened we walked down the corridor and stopped in front of my door. I fumbled with the keys and unlocked it was some difficulty, hardly noticing that my hands were still shaking a little, something Peter didn’t fail to notice. We entered my apartment and I made a bee-line for the kitchen, first filling and refilling a cup with water which I drank desperately, and then I grabbed some bread which I didn’t even bother to turn into a sandwich; I just ate it as it was.

I returned to the living room to find Peter sitting and talking to someone on the phone, apparently he was ordering pizza. “You like pepperoni, right?” He asked, covering the phone with one hand.

“Obviously,” I grunted through a mouthful of pizza.

“Perfect, because I’ve ordered three.”

I frowned, “What do we need three for?”

“Two for you, one for me, or maybe half and half if I feel hungry,” he flashed a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “We British eat much less than you Americans, I think you’ll be eating most of it.”

“Says the girl who just went a day and almost two nights without eating?”

I paused, rethinking my options, but then my stomach answered for me by letting out a long rumble. I snorted a laugh, “Looks like I’ll be eating my fair share tonight.”

And I did. When the pizzas came I practically breathed it up, devouring my two pizzas and even some of Peters. He watched me with a mixture of amusement and wonder. “I didn’t know girls could eat so much.” I only mumbled a reply, concentrating mostly on the pizza. But all that food reminded me of something…

I jumped out of my chair, startling Peter out of his seat. “OH MY GOD, WHEATLEY!”

“Wheatley?!” Peter asked, alert for danger but mostly confused at my sudden movement. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Wheatley, my pet hedgehog, I haven’t fed him since Friday!” I explained in a panic, rushing off to my room to feed my poor pet.

Peter blinked in confusion and shock. “You have a pet hedgehog?” He followed me into my room, which mostly consisted of a mattress surrounded by walls of boxes, like some sort of fortress, and stood by my side as I basically shoved fistfuls of vegetables into Wheatley’s enclosure, which was more of a large, open-topped tank than a cage. Wheatley was a small brown hedgehog, who greeted his new meal with joy and was eating happily, though he seemed uncertain about the extra company.

“Dad and I rescued him last winter, he was just a baby then and we found him freezing in our garden. He’s my responsibility though. Dad wanted to give him over to the rescue centre but I got attached soon after I named him so…” she shrugged, “Now we have a pet hedgehog.”

Peter chuckled, “What sort of name is Wheatley though?”

I gaped at him. “Have you never played Portal2?!”

He shook his head slowly, “No…”

I leapt to my computer and squatted in my desk chair eagerly, “Well you’re about to get the experience. Do you want to start with the first one or jump straight to the second one?”


	3. A Damsel in Distress

I could sense Peter watching me carefully as I tapped furiously at the keyboard, making whining noises and staring at the screen in pain. “No! Wheatley, don’t turn evil! Power is meaningless, don’t let it control you!” I wailed and slumped back in my seat miserably, watching helplessly as my favourite character, Wheatley, turned GLaDOS into a potato. “I can’t believe it. Even after playing this game several times I can never get over how Wheatley suddenly flips out like that…”

“Corrupted by the power accidentally stumbled upon,” Peter sighed with mock sadness.

“But he was my friend…”

“You do realise that he’s just a fictional character?”

“He lives in my heart!” I shut off the game, not forgetting to save, and checked the time. “Whoa! It’s almost 11:30! Shouldn't you be getting home?”

Peter checked his watch and bit his lip with frustration. “Yeah, I probably should. My aunt will be getting worried…” He paused and glanced up at me, as though trying to come to an unspoken decision. “Uh…if you haven’t got anything planned, would you um…would you like to come over to my house tomorrow?”

My eyes widened. “Why?”

“Well, considering how you were shut in a locker half the weekend I assume you haven’t even started the chemistry assignment we have-”

“There’s homework?! _And it’s chemistry?!”_

He winced, “Let me guess, you’re no good at chemistry?”

“I've practically given up on all the sciences,” I groaned, putting my head in my hands. “I keep getting Ds in every exam…it’s too much to deal with. I can’t wait to leave and go to college or university or wherever I go, as long as I can leave science behind I’ll be okay.”

Peter chuckled, “Well science happens to be my strong point, chemistry and physics especially, so I can help you there.”

“My hero,” I mumbled sarcastically, but managed to lift my head and smile. “Seriously, though, thanks…for everything.” He nodded in understanding. I could tell from the look in his eyes why he hadn't asked me what I was doing locked inside my locker: he already knew. Maybe he had a history with Alex and her friends or something else, I didn't know and I didn't plan on asking. The common ‘harassment’ of certain people wasn't exactly a topic you could casually throw out there. I was glad he wasn't asking about my story and he’d probably be glad if I didn't ask about his. “You should really go now; I don’t want to be the cause of your Aunt’s worry.”

He nodded again and I got up to guide him out the building. Once we stood outside he turned and held his hand out to me. “Give me your phone.”

I blinked with surprise and slowly handed him my phone, which I’d placed into the pocked of my jacket that I’d put on before leaving. Once he had it he began tapping at the screen and in less than a minute I had it back in my hand again. He smiled and left without a word, leaving me alone and stunned. Confused, I searched through my phone for anything that had changed and discovered a new addition to my list of contacts: Peter Parker. I couldn't stop the laugh that escaped my mouth and caused several people passing by to stare. I hurried back inside, bidding Mr. D'angelo a good night.

I stared suspiciously at the building in front of me and glanced down at my phone to check I had the right house. I’d texted Peter for his home address but I couldn't figure out if he’d given me the wrong one or if I’d just gotten horribly lost. I had the house he’d described right in front of me, but over-thinking and extreme nervousness had started toying with my mind. Nothing was certain anymore. _Just ring the doorbell and if someone other than Peter appears apologize and leave. No biggie._ It was a huge biggie. It took me almost 15 minutes to gather enough courage to walk up the steps to the door and the only thing that made me ring the bell was the need to not look like a weirdo and a psychopath.

I almost died when the door opened and my stress sky-rocketed when I realized the person who’d answered wasn't Peter but an older woman who watched me with kind eyes. “Can I help you?”

“S-s-sorry, I…I m-must've come to the w-wrong house…” I whipped round and tried to leave but a gentle hand on my arm stopped me.

“Excuse me, but could you be Theo? My nephew told me that you were coming…”

A weight was lifted from my shoulders as I realized this was the right house and I sighed with relief. “Yes, that’s me. So this means you’re Peter’s aunt?”

The woman nodded with a smile and gestured for me to enter her house. “Yes, my name is May Parker. I'm afraid Peter is out at the moment, I'm sorry that it was at such short notice. He does that a lot unfortunately, but I guess teenagers have things they need to do. Feel free to come inside and have tea with me though?”

I paused, not sure if I should accept her offer or leave and come back later, but after a moment I put on what I hoped to be a warm smile and stepped into the house. Aunt May led me into the dining room and told me to take a seat as she continued into the kitchen. I glanced around awkwardly, feeling out of place, and eventually sat uncomfortably on the edge of a red armchair, placing my bag on the floor by my feet.

I studied the room as I waited for Aunt May to return. Apart from the furniture I noticed various picture frames on the mantle-piece above what appeared to be a fire place, though I was sure the house didn't have a chimney. I stood and stepped over to the pictures, carefully taking one in my hands. It was a picture of Aunt May, Peter and another older man standing together in front of a school. Was it a photo to commemorate Peter's graduation from Middle School? "Ah," I heard a soft voice behind me and turned to see Aunt May setting down two cups of tea on a small tea table in front of the red armchair and a white sofa, "that's the picture we took when Peter graduated from his Middle school. That was quite a few years ago." She came over a gentle tapped the older man who stood on Peter's left, "That's my late husband, Ben, Peter's uncle. He died just over a year ago, but Peter and I have been able to get by without too much trouble." She turned away and took a seat on the white sofa. I carefully put the picture to its place and returned to my seat in the red armchair.

"Thank you for the tea," I said quietly, taking a sip.

"You're welcome, dear. You're name is Theo, yes?" I nodded. "May I ask what your relationship is with my boy? He rarely invites anyone over…"

I waved her suspicions away with one hand, "Don't worry, we're just friends. I only met him on Wednesday."

Aunt May's eyebrows raised slightly, "Oh, so you're the new student he mentioned last week, the one from England? I thought I recognized that accent…"

"Yes, I was living in England until two weeks ago when my dad suddenly got a call from his work about a transfer to America. He's now a journalist for a newspaper here…the Daily Bugle I think it’s called. He used to work for its London affiliate, the Daily Herald, so I guess he had a good start."

"Your father sounds like a capable man."

I couldn't help but snort at that. “Please, he’s as helpless as a newborn lamb. He can barely make his own breakfast in the morning. Ever since mum died he’s been about as helpful as my pet hedgehog.”

“I'm sure he tries his best,” Aunt May smiled warmly, but didn't miss the comment I made about my mother. “How long has it been?”

“Almost seven years ago, she died when I was ten. They said it was a car accident but I don’t really remember much about it, despite being in the car at the time. My psychiatrist said something about suppressed memories…” I shrugged, “It was years ago but I still remember her.”

“There are some things we never forget,” I noticed her look over at the picture of her husband and her smile faltered momentarily. “I still miss my Ben, even now, but I think Peter has it worse than I. Those two were so close and Ben was like a father to him. I think he still blames himself for what happened, even though it wasn't his fault.”

I gave her my own smile, “It will be okay, Peter’s a strong guy. I've only known him for a few days but he was pretty good at Portal 2…that’s a game he played at my apartment yesterday.”

“So that’s where he was!” Aunt May exclaimed, “That boy never tells me anything these days. He’s always running off into the night and coming home at ungodly hours, I'm close to believing he’s joined a gang.”

I laughed, “Unless it’s a science gang I don’t think you’ll have to worry, Aunt May. I've seen him in science class; your nephew is a genius. There’s no way he’s running off to do drugs.”

She sighed, “You’re right. Thank you, Theo, I can tell you’re a good girl. Peter’s made a good friend.”

“You've only known me for less than five minutes, are you sure you should be making this decision now?”

“I just know. Call it woman’s intuition. I know you’re a good person just as well as you know Peter isn't ‘running off to do drugs’.”

I grinned, “Okay, you got me. But don’t blame me when I end up dragging Peter into danger.”

“I'm more likely to blame him for dragging _you_ into danger.”

I smiled and glanced up at a clock hanging from a wall. “Do you think there’s any chance Peter will be home soon?”

“Do you have something you need to get to?”

“No…I just don’t want to miss my dad getting home if I can. I did tell him I’d be studying with a friend but if Peter isn't here anyway it might be even better to surprise him by welcoming him home. He’s been gone since Friday.”

“Oh, you should definitely go then.” She took the tea from my hands and placed it on the wooden table. “I’ll let Peter know you stopped by and that if he wants to keep his friends he should make time for them like a proper gentlemen.” I allowed her to pull me to my feet and take me to the door. “Thank you for stopping by, it was great to have a chat with you, Theo.”

“You too,” I smiled. “I’ll come by again some other day.”

“Please do, we’ll be glad to have you. You should bring your father over for dinner sometime!”

I laughed, “Well I’ll ask him. Bye!” I hopped down the front steps, waving goodbye to Aunt May as I walked away. _I guess I should buy some stuff while I'm out. I should make dad something special for dinner…or just make pasta. Pasta sounds good._ I took a detour to the nearest supermarket and stocked up on ingredients for tonight’s dinner. Take-away was out of the question, this evening was to be a celebration!

After gathering everything plus a few extra items for myself (Oreos, ice cream, etc) I made my way to the till but immediately became flustered. I hadn't quite adjusted to the American currency yet so using dollars instead of pound notes was really confusing. I dumped everything on the counter and hurriedly counted my money, taking longer than the average person since every note looked the same to me. _Seriously, whose idea was it to make every bill the same colour! Why green?! In England we had green, purple, orange-_

I heard a click behind my head and looked up; freezing once I noticed the horror in the eyes of the worker behind the counter. _Oh no, don’t tell me…_

“I want all the money you've got or your store’s gonna be decorated with this blondie's brains,” A loud commanding voice snarled from behind me. “Yours too, hand that money you've got in your hands over to me,” the guy snapped and I shivered, pulling every bill from my pocket and holding it over my shoulder for him to grab, too afraid to turn my head. I felt his gloved hand brush mine as he snatched the money and I immediately felt ill. An extra wave of nausea flowed through me when he roughly gripped my shoulder, hard enough to cause bruising. _That’s gonna leave a mark,_ I thought miserably, trying hard to keep my mind calm. _Okay, so what if I was being held hostage by some random psychopath? Big deal! Though this IS why guns are illegal in England, America should probably re-evaluate their priorities on this one…_

“Faster!” The man barked, shaking me roughly and extracting a yelp from me. “Shut your mouth!”

The terrified worker, nothing more than a teenager doing part time work, quickly unloaded all the money from the cashier into a shopping bag and threw it to me, clearly not wanting to come any nearer to the man than necessary. I unconsciously grabbed it and held the bag tightly in my hands, waiting for the robber to take it from me.

He didn't. Instead he pulled me out of the shop, still holding a gun to my head. “What are you doing?! Let me go!” I yelled in horror, kicking out in attempt to free myself.

“I said shut your mouth!” The man snarled, shaking me again. “Any more noise out of you and I’ll blow your head off! Do you want that?” I hesitated before shaking my head no, but it was probably hard to notice since I was already trembling quite a lot. _Clearly I'm not a brave person._ “Good, now be quiet and walk.” He dragged me out of the store, which I now noticed was empty apart from the worker, the robber and I. This guy had been careful with his timing. We slipped into a dark ally way almost immediately after exiting the shop and I realized how dark it had become. _How much time did I spend in there?! Dad will be home soon and at this rate I won’t be able to get home…hold on that’s the least of my worries! I could die right now! There’s literally a gun right next to my head!_

I began trembling more violently and the guy must've mistaken it for struggling because when we came out into an abandoned car park he threw me against a wall and pinned me down. “You’re a really troublesome bitch you know?” He growled and I shuddered in disgust as his hot breath travelled down my neck, “The cops won’t be long and I need to be gone before they get here. I don’t need you slowing me down.” I felt something hard press against the back of my head and froze. “Perhaps I should shoot you anyway just to save time…or…I could have my way with you as an extra special event…”

“Or you could choose the third option and let her go to escape with your life,” another voice snarled, sounding vaguely familiar but I couldn't place where I’d heard it.

The man spun around, seemingly forgetting my existence. “Who the hell are…” The man’s sentence was left unfinished as he interrupted himself by yelling in a mixture of fear and anger. “Y-you’re-”

I turned my head slowly, almost afraid of who I’d see, and practically cried out with relief when I saw who it was. Spider Man. I didn't have the time to become star struck as my legs gave way and I slid to the floor, too relieved to do anything but breathe and stare. _Seriously, when did I become such a typical damsel in distress, unable to do anything but scream and be saved by the hero? I'm so lame…_

“Don’t worry, lady, you’re okay now. Let me just deal with this dude…”

“YOU’LL NEVER GET ME!” The man screamed suddenly and I felt myself get grabbed once again.

“Seriously?” I couldn't help but mutter.

“Shut it!” I felt the barrel of his gun dig into the side of my head once again and I winced as it cut through the skin. I felt blood ooze into my hair and grimaced at the feeling. “N-now, you! S-s-spider M-man…” I watched as the hero took a careful step forward, with his hands raised, but this just made my captor agitated and afraid. He dug the gun in deeper and I gasped in pain, the sound making Spider Man flinch. “Not a step closer or I shoot her!” The man screamed, “One move and I swear I’ll pull the trigger!”  
I studied the costumed man in front of me and could see that he was facing a dilemma. He didn't have a clear shot of the robber while I was practically draped over him, with a gun behind my head no less. He was fast and his web shooters were faster, but there was no doubt that any movement he made would end with my head ceasing to remain in one piece. “Dude, maybe we can talk about this-”

“Shut up and let me go!” The man screamed, gripping me tighter. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to believe what was happening.

“Sir-”

I heard a loud bang right by my ear and after that everything was a blur. I couldn't hear anything, I couldn't see anything and my head was in a daze. I was dimly aware of falling to the ground and lying still, dimly aware of the robber being stuck to the wall by Spider Man’s web shooters, dimly aware of Spider Man himself crouching over and holding my body, dimly aware of everything.

_Am I dead?_

_No, you’re not dead, another voice replied._

_Didn't I just get shot in the head?_

_Sort of, but not as you believe you did. All you need to know right now is that you’re alive._

_I'm not going to meet mum again?_

_No._

_That’s good…_

Then the world faded into darkness.

My awareness flickered on and off for a while. When my eyes first flickered open I was soaring high across the city, but that must've been a dream because how could a person fly? The second time my eyes opened I was surrounded by uniformed men, some of whom were speaking to me, telling me things I couldn't hear or understand, while others spoke into walkie-talkies. The third time I opened my eyes I was in a hospital room and sleeping next to my bed was my father.

I forced myself into full consciousness and tried to say hello to dad but it ended as a surge of dry coughs. When did my throat get so dry? Dad’s head snapped up at the sound of my coughs and he reached for a glass of water, handing it to me to let me drink. Once I was finished he put it back where it had been and gripped my hand tightly. “Oh Theo, thank God you’re alright! They told me everything, about the robbery, you being held hostage and then being rescued by Spider Man, oh I'm so glad you’re safe!” He rested his forehead against my hand and sighed happily. “If I lost you too I don’t know how I’d survive…”

“You wouldn't,” I chuckled, adjusting myself to sit in a more comfortable position. “So what happened exactly? The last thing I remember clearly was having a gun held to my head. I thought I was shot, dad. I thought I was dead-”

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. You didn't get shot in the head, sweetie. He probably missed in the panic. The only head injury you have is where he pushed the barrel in too roughly…” His voice stiffened with anger and pain as he said those words and I squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“Now it’s my turn to tell you I'm okay. Apparently I'm alive with nothing more than a few cuts and bruises, so aren't I really lucky? Not to mention I was saved by the famous Spider Man.”

Dad chuckled, relaxing a little. “That’s true. How was the encounter? Don’t tell me you forgot to ask for his autograph?”

I slapped myself, “Darn, I knew there was something I forgot besides groceries!” I frowned as I remembered the special dinner I was meant to make dad. “Sorry about all this, I was going to make you a special dinner to celebrate your home-coming…”

“Oh Theo, don’t apologise, you have nothing to be sorry for! If anything I'm sorry for always being busy with work.”

“No, I know you need to work to support us, Wheatley included. He’s probably lonely with us being out all the time.”

Dad smiled, “Actually, there’s someone else who came to visit.” He reached down into some sort of box and returned with something in his hands…Wheatley!

“Oh my God, dad, you didn't seriously bring my hedgehog to the hospital!” I gasped, taking Wheatley from him and cradling him in my arms. The little brown creature looked up at me happily and curled up on my blanket. I winced as a stray spine scratched my arm, but that was something you got used when caring for a hedgehog. “Thanks for bringing him; I'm sure he was worried about me.”

“Indeed he was, though it’s more like I had taken him out to play when I got a call from the hospital and accidentally brought him along in my pocket. But hey, all’s well that ends well.”

I rolled my eyes. “So when can I get out of here? I feel fine and there’s nothing seriously wrong with me right?”

Dad shifted uncertainly in his seat. “It’s true that there’s nothing seriously wrong physically, but the doctors said that, with your psychological history, you might suffer from post traumatic stress and-”

“Dad, that was years ago! There’s nothing wrong with me anymore! There wasn't anything wrong with me in the first place; actually, I think I had the expected reaction for a child watching their mother die in a car accident.”

“But you don’t remember any of it. You never did remember.”

“I never wanted to remember, dad,” I sighed. “What child would want to remember what it was like to watch their mother die?”

Dad couldn't answer that and leaned back in his chair. “Sorry…I've just always been sceptical, you know? If you can’t remember then we don’t have any way of knowing what really happened…”

“It was an accident, dad, you need to let it go.”

“….Yeah….sorry. I’ll try not to dwell on it, sweetheart. I’ll ask the doctors about getting you out tonight.” With that he stood up and left.

I sighed and reached for the necklace around my neck, holding my mother’s wedding ring in between my fingers. If I held it up against the light I could vaguely see a familiar appearance of fire from a long lost memory. _Fire, huh? The only thing I remember from that time…_

Dad managed to persuade the doctors that I was okay to leave that night, but told me to rest and take the next day off school, which I of course agreed to. It wasn't like I had any good lessons tomorrow anyway. A couple of policemen came in before I could leave and asked if I was well enough to answer a few of their questions about the incident. Dad tried to shoo them away at first, but I let it slide. “Might as well do this sooner rather than later,” I argued.

“Thank you, Miss Stevenson. I am Inspector Brody and this here,” he gestured to the taller policeman, “is my partner, Inspector Graham. Thank you again for speaking with us, I know this evening has been very traumatic for you,” one officer, the shorter one with short blonde hair said softly.

“What? Apart from being held hostage and nearly shot in the head, I’d say it was quite a nice evening. Nice weather and all that.” The taller inspector smiled a little at that but Brody's expression was unchanging and they took two seats next to the bed I was still sitting cross legged on, with Wheatley sleeping soundly on my lap.

“Okay, Miss Stevenson, just tell us everything you can remember.”

So I did. I told them about how I’d gone to Peter’s house to study but he’d been out so I left after talking with his aunt, May. I described how I’d gone into the shop and been taken hostage at the counter, dragged into an abandoned parking lot and how Spider Man had come to rescue me. I told them every detail I could scrape from my memory, which wasn't as much as I’d hoped but I wasn't expected to remember much amongst all the action. Inspector Graham took notes on everything I said while Brody kept his eyes on me the whole time, studying my expressions and body language as I told the story. To be honest there wasn't much to see, apart from shifting Wheatley's position or stopping to think I didn't change my voice or expression much. Though I don’t doubt my eyes lit up a little when describing Spider Man. It had been my first encounter with a super hero and that fact was only just getting to me, turning me into a somewhat star-struck fangirl.

“You don’t seem too troubled by the fact you were almost killed,” Inspector Brody said quietly, never taking his eyes from mine.

“Maybe I'm just in shock,” I snorted, rolling my eyes. “I'm not dead, I feel fine, that should be enough, right? I don’t need to be emotionally scarred just because I went through one traumatic event…”

“Our records say you've been in more than one traumatic event.”

I glared at him harshly. “Is that really relevant, sir?”

“It could be.”

“I don’t see how it could,” my father interrupted angrily.

“Mr. Stevenson, I don’t mean to offend anyone, it’s just that it’s my job to take everything into account.”

“If you don’t mind,” I snapped, “could you tell me your half of the story?”

Inspector Graham looked up from his writing, a puzzled look on his face. “Our half of the story?”

“Yes. As I've just told you, I don’t remember anything after the gunshot. I have no idea what happened and obviously I somehow ended up here,” I gestured to the hospital room we were in. “So, please, explain. You are done with my questions, are you not?”  
Inspector Brody and Graham exchanged an uncertain glance before Graham slowly closed his notebook and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Yes, you’re right. We apologize for taking up so much of your time already and thank you again for answering our questions.” I nodded but remained silent, waiting for him to explain. “We first received a silent alarm alert at 6:07pm yesterday evening and we sent four units over to investigate the issue. Upon arrival we were told by a young man named Tom, the boy who’d had his shift behind the counter during the incident, that a large man had taken a young woman hostage, taken the money from the store and dragged you away. After searching the area we found evidence of a struggle in the abandoned parking lot behind the store, including discarded webbing; the type Spider Man likes to use. Back at the station we found that our city’s hero had delivered both the criminal and his hostage to us. The man was dangling upside down above our doorstep, wrapped in webbing, and you were propped up against the wall, unconscious and wrapped in a blanket. After that we only had to send you to a hospital and lock the man in a cell. We plan to interrogate him as soon as he regains consciousness.”

I nodded slowly, going over Graham’s words in my head. “Thank you, Inspector. I’d like to know more but I guess only Spider Man himself could know the rest.”

“Well…there were a few sightings of Spider Man swinging through the city carrying an unidentifiable object on his back,” Brody interjected. “I can only guess that ‘object’ was you.”

I nodded again. “Thank you both. Anyway, I would really like to get home and I think my hedgehog is getting tired.” I gently ran a finger over Wheatley's spines and I felt him shift his position a little.

“Yes, we’d hate to take up any more of your time,” Graham said immediately, standing up and pulling Brody with him. “Thank you, once again.”

The pair left at last and I sighed, turning to dad with a smile. “Finally, some peace.”

Dad laughed, “Indeed. Now come on, let’s get you home.”


	4. Chapter 4

I spent my Monday unpacking the rest of the boxes. We’d done a good job of the place. I let Dad do his own room by himself, trusting him to at least be able to do that, but gave myself the responsibility of the rest of the apartment. The kitchen and bathrooms had been the first things to be finished completely. We had two en suit bathrooms for each bedroom, conveniently, so I didn’t have to get my own things mixed up with Dad’s. However, only the bathroom in dad’s room actually had a bath. Mine consisted of a toilet, a sink, a shower and a few cupboards. It also had a nice window for me to stare out at New York City…though hopefully New York City wouldn’t be staring back at me.

The living room was the next thing to be finished. The furniture was moved in early on and I’d organised everything to look at least remotely in order, though that mostly meant positioning every chair to face the television screen. Oh, the joys of living in the twenty first century.

My bedroom just sort of sorted itself out. We had yet to buy a bed for me, so I was still living on a mattress, but it was comfortable enough. Plus, I liked living in a fortress of boxes. I’d finally filled my chest of draws with all my clothes, which was a lot more than I used to have now that I had to wear my own clothes every day instead of being able to rely on a uniform. I had two bookshelves in my room, each one almost filled with books of all genres. After unpacking the last of my boxes, I spent the rest of my time organising the books. I was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to my books…

I had been laying on my bed, just nearing the end of the sequel to Lion Boy, the book I’d been reading at school, when I heard someone knock on the apartment door. I frowned and checked the time on my phone; it was only 3:50pm. Dad shouldn’t be home yet… With a shrug I put down my book and crawled from my bed and over to the door, getting to my feet halfway. “I’m coming!” I called out as reached the door and unlocked it. I had imagined plenty of people who it could’ve been, but I hadn’t expected the pair that stood before me.

“Theo!” Petra wailed, throwing herself at me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “I thought you were dead! Where were you?! Are you ill? Did you die?”

I pushed her off with a laugh. “Idiot, of course I’m not dead. A lot happened over the weekend and the doctors said I should take Monday off. I think they said something about Tuesday too, but I don’t want to take too much time off…”

“But what happened? No one knows exactly what it was but everyone at school is talking about it! Some say you got stabbed, others say you were kidnapped, I even heard one girl say-”

“Why don’t you two come inside,” I interrupted, looking over her shoulder at Peter, who was standing just behind her, eyeing me carefully as if to make sure I was definitely okay. I grabbed their arms and pulled them inside, shoving them onto the single sofa in the apartment and taking a beanbag for myself so I could sit opposite them. “So you guys haven’t heard about it? I’d have expected the newspapers to publish something about it by now…”

“Publish something about what?” Peter asked.

“Have you two heard about the robbery that took place yesterday at that shop near here?”

Peter waved her arms enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes, I did! The guy who robbed a grocery store and took a girl hostage, but was beat up by Spider Man. Though the Daily Bugle has a habit of making Spider Man look like the bad guy…” She paused, eyes widening as she pieced something together. “Hold on…were you the girl?! The one taken hostage?”

I nodded, smiling weakly. “The very one. It was weird, though, having something you never expect to happen actually happen to you.” I raised my hand to my head and traced the small injury the man had made with his gun. You couldn’t see it through my hair, but I could feel it when I touched the spot. “Though I don’t feel as…traumatised as I probably should, it feels more like that incident happened to some other girl and I’m just the spectator…”

“I sort of get that,” Peter agreed. “Our brains sometimes do that in moments like that to avoid the extreme stress of it all…”

“Anyway, the mystery has been solved,” Petra grinned at me. “You’re alive and okay, that’s all I need to know. You’re coming to school tomorrow, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I laughed.

“Perfect,” Peter grinned and glanced at Petra. “We’ve decided on something as well.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Oh really? What have you decided?”

“Well,” Petra started, “since you’ve spent all your time during lunch and recess in the school library…”

“We’ve decided to force you out to eat with us,” Peter finished.

“What?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun! Besides, you can’t stay as a nerd forever. Leave reading for your own time and spend some good quality time with your friends!”

I groaned, “But I like reading…”

“And we like hanging out with you,” Peter laughed, “so you’ll have to make a few sacrifices. As compensation, you may bring one book with you each day.”

“You guys are so mean…”

“That’s what friends are for,” Petra laughed, leaping to her feet and twirling around. “So this is your place! It’s smaller than I expected but it’s nice…cosy.” She set off to explore, leaving Peter and I alone.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Peter asked, turning serious. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Only a little,” I smiled softly. “Nothing I can’t handle. Though he did leave a few bruises here and there, that guy had a grip like a…like a guy with a strong grip.”

Peter laughed loudly, “Wow, you’re so good at this.”

“I know right, I’m fabulous. By the way, where were you yesterday? I went round to your house but you were out. It did lead to me having a nice cup of tea with your aunt, May, though. She’s nice…”

“Oh right, I was just out…y’know…walking, skate boarding, doing teen guy stuff, nothing special.” He shrugged vaguely and suddenly became really interested in his shoelaces.

“And all that was more important than meeting your friend and helping her with her studies?”

Peter winced and held his head in his hands. “I know; I’m a total jerk. I’m sorry for blowing you off like that, Theo. I really am. I just…I just got caught up in something. It’s sort of like a part time job…volunteer stuff. I’m not really supposed to talk about it…”

I waved his words away with my hand. “No, don’t worry about it. I get it. Whatever it was must’ve been important if it meant you’d have to miss meeting with me, so I’ll forgive you this time. Just give me a heads up next time; you have my number for a reason.”

Peter looked up and smiled a little. “Yeah, you’re right. Aunt May didn’t forget to ask about dinner between us, so I guess I can make it up to you with my aunt’s good cooking?”

I beamed, “You sure know your way to a girl’s heart, don’t you?”

“Is food the way to yours?”

“Damn right it is! I still need to bring it up with my dad, though….have you met him yet?”

“No, I haven’t. Though I have met Wheatley…”

“Who’s Wheatley?” Petra’s voice came from the kitchen, along with a series of clattering sounds which I chose to ignore.

“My pet hedgehog, he’s in my room if you want to see him.”

A louder series of clanks muffled my last few words and Petra’s head appeared from the doorway, a wild glint in her eyes. “Did you say a pet hedgehog?”

“Uh…yeah…”

“Oh my gosh! I’ve never seen a hedgehog before!” She darted over to my bedroom door and was out of sight in an instant, soon to be followed by a variety of dying sounds and ‘OMG so cute!’

Peter chuckled, “Honestly, I’d never seen a hedgehog until I came over on Saturday. I mean I’ve seen them in pictures and stuff, but we don’t get them in America.”

“That’s a shame because they’re adorable as hell. You guys are missing out on a lot.”

“I’m sure we are-”

“Hey, Theo, what’s this movie?” Petra walked into the room holding a disgruntled Wheatley in one hand and a DVD case in the other.

“That’s not a movie, it’s a TV show,” I chuckled. “It’s called the IT Crowd, have you not heard of it?”

“No…it looks too nerdy for me.”

“I think I’ve heard of it,” Peter admitted, studying the case. “But I’ve never seen it.”

I leaped from the beanbag and snatched the case from Petra, “Then you guys are watching it, right now.”

~~~~~

_I think I’ve got them hooked._

We’d been watching the IT Crowd for hours now and it was almost 9. Eventually my friends decided it was time to leave and bid me farewell. They didn’t get some of the British humour that was dished out in the show, but both agreed it was hilarious. This fact satisfied me greatly. I am the queen of good taste.

“Theo, I’m home! Are you still okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, dad,” I smiled and lifted my head as dad appeared through the door. “Nothing eventful happened except my two existing friends coming over and watching the IT Crowd with me.”

“Ooh, good choice,” dad laughed, dropping his bag and taking off his work blazer before coming and plopping himself next to me on the couch I’d moved to earlier. “So who are these two existing friends of yours?”

“One was Peter; he’s the guy whose house I went to yesterday to study.”

“Oh, the guy who didn’t show up to his own house for his own special event,” he growled.

“It’s fine, seriously. It must’ve been something important if it meant missing out on being in my presence for a few hours.”

“That’s true. You’re the best presence to be in.”

“I know. Anyway, my second existing friend is this girl called Petra. She’s great, though she can be a little annoying at times. She’s like a puppy that’s imprinted on me and now follows me everywhere. I like her, it’s kinda cute.”  
“She sounds adorable.”

“She is, I guess. She sort of ditched her old group of friends to hang out with me. I don’t blame her for it, they aren’t the nicest people, dad, and that’s an understatement.”

Dad’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Theo, have they been giving you any trouble? I know you don’t like to tell me about these things because you think it puts stress on me, but we’ve had these sorts of situations in your previous schools and if anything happens again like last time-”

“Dad, it’s fine,” I interrupted softly. “Last time was an accident; I just…got in someone’s way a bit.”

“And that’s enough of a reason to lock you in the school basement for a week? We had the police searching for you everywhere! What if we couldn’t find you and you starved to death?!”

“That would’ve taken longer than a week, dad. Plus I had a drippy water pipe so there was no way I’d get dehydrated. I’m still alive right?”

“That’s no excuse, Theo, and you know it,” he snapped, almost angry now. “I know how much it scared you, how much it scarred you, because...”

“I’m not emotionally scarred, dad,” I tried to argue.

“…because I know about your fear of being trapped.”

I shut myself up. I’d tried to keep my fear a secret from dad. I tried to keep most things a secret from him, actually, and it usually worked until it was too big of a secret to hide anymore. A couple of years after mum died, dad developed a heart condition. The doctors said it was probably caused by the stress of his wife dying and that he should try to live as stress-free as he could. I always hid my troubles from him because I didn’t want to worry him. I didn’t want to be a burden to him.

After mum died, dad and I moved around a lot for his work. The longest we ever lived in one place was for two years and our moves were usually sudden and unpredictable. Once we were only in one town for a month before we had to move again. We actually moved to a different country once, Germany, but I guess the language boundary was too much for us so we moved back to England. I kind of enjoyed the moving around, but it also concerned me because it seemed to stress dad out sometimes. I’d argued with him to quit his job and take on an easier one, that I’d take up a part time job too and we could work together for money, but he always refused and said that journalism was his passion and he’d work with it until his death. I called him a stubborn idiot for that, but I also admired his determination. I think I’m mostly afraid of losing him too, of becoming an orphan. What would happen to me after that? We had no friends or relatives who could take me in. My grandparents were either dead or too ill to even consider taking care of me, both my parents had been only children so I had no uncles or aunts and dad and I had no real friends anymore after all the moving around. We really had no idea what would happen to me if he died. Yet he still insisted on keeping his job.

So when the bullying started, of course I kept it a secret. It was the same at every school but mostly kept to a level of taunting, crude remarks, the very occasional rough shoves in the corridor and the whole range of classics. Thankfully, I hadn’t encountered anyone cruel enough to shove my face down a toilet like I’d see people do in movies. They were all in American movies, though, so maybe this was an experience I’d get to receive here. The worst thing that had happened to me was at my last school in Somerset where I’d been pushed over the banisters of a set of stairs and fell about three stories. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been and if I hadn’t altered my position to land feet-first instead of head-first I would’ve died. According to the doctors I had been extremely lucky and only received a minimal number of injuries: a broken arm and leg plus a few other less serious injuries. We moved schools immediately after that one. Clearly I’m not exactly a lucky person. For six years I had been moving and my time at school had never been pleasant. I always held on to the hope that things would change next time, and that I’d make friends, but I never did. I kept all this from dad. He didn’t need my problems on top of his own.

“I understand that you’ve been keeping things from me,” dad continued, “the injuries you receive have never been uncommon and the way you sometimes randomly come home late or without your schoolbooks, how you suddenly dropped out from all the social media sites…it’s pretty clear you haven’t exactly had it easy Theo. I also know why you’ve kept these things from me.” I felt a lump form in my throat.

“Dad, don’t…”

“You’re worried about my heart, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid to lose me just like we lost Caroline.”

My eyes were beginning to water now. “Dad, I can’t. The doctors always say not to get stressed…”

“To hell with what the doctors say!” Dad snapped, causing me to jump. “Theo, my whole life revolves around keeping you safe. I can’t bear to see you hurt.”

“Well I don’t want to see you hurt either!” I cried. “If I lose you too, dad, I’ll have nothing! I can handle a few bullies here and there; they’re an easy price to pay if it means keeping you with me for a little longer! Those are just particularly troublesome events that I can deal with, it’s just physical, dad. Everything they could possibly do would only ever cause physical pain because I don’t care about them. You, however, would cause a whole world of emotional pain if something happened.” I paused for breath, trying to control my breathing that had slowly become erratic. Dad watched me with pained eyes, looking helpless but knowing he couldn’t do much to comfort me. “It’s okay, I’m okay, and I’ll always be fine as long as you’re here. Always.”

Dad paused before answering. “I just…I just don’t want you to get hurt, Theo.”

“I know. But I want to protect you as much as you want to protect me. What was our promise?”

He smiled a little, “‘I’ll try to stay stress-free if you try to keep out of harm’s way’.”

“Damn right. Equivalent exchange, I believe.”

“When did my daughter become the responsible adult and I the dependent child?”

“The moment you stopped making my packed lunches for me,” I replied with a smile. I was confident that he didn’t even know half of my story yet. He only knew about the few larger incidents that happened due to ‘harassment from fellow students’, but he was still unaware of the smaller stuff: the taunts, the threats, the occasional beating. For that, I was eternally grateful. It was bad enough that he knew this much already.

Dad’s small smile widened and started looking genuine. “Have I ever told you how much you resemble Caroline?”

“I’ve been told I have her glistening sky-blue eyes, which is weird because none of us are biologically related…”

“No, I mean your kindness and selflessness. You’re willing to put yourself through all sorts of pain to spare someone you care about. Your mother was always like that. She saved me a few dozen times as well.”

“I’d hardly call myself selfless; it’s nothing I can’t recover from.”

“She always said the same thing.”

I grinned, “Well I guess she rubbed off on me then.” I ruffled his hair affectionately, much like he used to do to me when I was much younger. “I’m gonna go to bed. I’ve got school in the morning. Also, when are you free this week?”

Dad frowned at the sudden question and thought for a moment. “I’m free Friday night, why?”

“Well that’s when we’re going to the Parker’s home for dinner.”


End file.
